


Blood and Pumpkins

by CrookshanksAgentofOWCA



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Halloween, I just wanted to write something fun for Halloween, Just cause they're horrible villains doesn't mean they can't do normal stuff sometimes, TW for blood, This is super goofy, Voldemort hasn't really come to terms with his emotions, but not like a lot, over-protective Voldemort, someone has to make soft Bellamort content and I guess I'm someone, this is early in their relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27270073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookshanksAgentofOWCA/pseuds/CrookshanksAgentofOWCA
Summary: Short, ridiculous Bellamort Halloween fic.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Blood and Pumpkins

Lord Voldemort was having a relatively quiet October day until his reading was interrupted by an ear-shattering scream. Normally such a sound would be no cause for alarm, as torture was a common occurrence among the Death Eaters, but he recognized this scream. It was Bellatrix’s. And despite his best efforts, he cared about her.

Trying not to panic, he hurried through the halls toward the source of the sound. Frantically wondering what could have happened to Bella, he rounded a corner and slammed right into her.

“Oh!” she cried, jumping back. “Sorry, my Lord, I wasn’t watching where I was….” She trailed off as Voldemort stared at her in horror. There was a gash on her right arm from which quite a lot of blood was dripping.

“What happened to you?”

“Oh, this? It’s nothing.” Bellatrix tried to cover the wound with her hand, but blood still leaked between her fingers.

“It most certainly is not nothing. Were you attacked? Who did this?” The Dark Lord felt his panic fading and his anger rising. _No one_ hurt his Bella.

“No one attacked me. It was…an accident.”

“What kind of accident?”  
“Um….” Bellatrix shifted her feet, looking embarrassed. Voldemort wondered what she could be so hesitant to tell him. Perhaps she had been practicing dueling and was ashamed to have lost? He wondered how to assure her that that was okay, as amazing as she was, she couldn’t win _every_ battle, which was why they practiced. He still felt an unreasonable urge to murder whoever her sparring partner had been though.

“Bella—”

She sighed heavily.

“Could we maybe talk about this later? I’d like to get this healed before I loose anymore blood.”  
“Of course.” Voldemort took hold of her wrist and waved his wand over her arm. The wound sealed itself immediately.

“Thank you.” Bellatrix waved her own wand, cleansing the remaining blood. Her arm looked perfectly normal now. “I would’ve done it myself, but you know I’m rubbish at healing spells.”

“My pleasure. Now will you tell me what happened?”  
“Oh, it doesn’t really matter. It was no big deal.”  
“’No big deal’?! You were hurt!”

“And now I’m not. I’ve had worse injuries, you know.”

“Yes, but….” Voldemort looked down in embarrassment. Why was he so upset anyway? Bellatrix could handle herself and he shouldn’t let anyone have as much power over his emotions as she did. He was about to accept her lack of explanation and change the subject when he noticed a trail of blood droplets on the floor, leading to a door down the hall. Quickly, he stepped around Bella and followed them. She was on his heels immediately.

“My Lord, it’s really nothing! I’m sure you have more important things to worry about!”  
Bellatrix caught up to him just as he reached the door and threw herself in front of it. He gave her a look.

“Bella, are you really going to stand in my way?”  
“No! I just don’t think you want to waste your time on something so inconsequential.”

“If it was really inconsequential, you’d tell me about it!”

Bellatrix bit her lip, her eyes darting from side to side. She looked scared, which scared him, because she was almost never scared. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled her away from the door.

“Bella, whatever this is, we can handle it.”

“No, really, my Lord, there’s no need—”

Voldemort took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped into the room.

It was filled with pumpkins.

On one side of the room was a pile of perfectly round, bright orange pumpkins. On the other side were rows of intricately carved jack-o-lanterns. They boasted a variety of faces—some fearsome, some fearful. Others featured the Dark Mark or the Black Family crest. A few had writing on them and still others had surprisingly detailed carvings of different magical creatures. In the middle of the room was a table covered in knives of all shapes and sizes. The biggest knife, which was covered in blood, had been dropped on the floor, along with a half-carved pumpkin. Voldemort took it in and then slowly turned back to Bellatrix, who was cringing in embarrassment.

“Bellatrix,” he said.

“Yes, my Lord?” she replied.

“Did you seriously injure yourself carving a pumpkin?”

Bellatrix twisted a strand of hair around her finger awkwardly.

“…Yes,” she admitted.

Voldemort threw back his head and laughed.

“And here I was afraid you were in some sort of danger!”

Bella frowned in confusion.

“Wait…you were _worried_ about me?”

Now it was Voldemort’s turn to be embarrassed.

“Yes. I don’t understand it, but I…I don’t like to see you hurt.”  
Bellatrix’s eyes shone. He felt a flutter of panic. Had she misinterpreted his concern for love? It wasn’t love. He wasn’t sure what the feelings he had for Bella were, but they weren’t love. They couldn’t be.

As she was an expert Occlumens, it was impossible to know what Bella was thinking. But all she said was,

“I appreciate that, my Lord. I don’t like to see you hurt either.”

He nodded briskly in acknowledgement.

“Why didn’t you just tell me what happened?”

“Why didn’t I tell you that I was carving jack-o-lanterns and accidentally stabbed myself? Surely a wizard of your brilliance could figure it out.”  
Of course! She hadn’t wanted him to see her doing something so silly and frivolous. He felt foolish for not realizing it sooner. But Bellatrix always managed to skillfully complete whatever missions he assigned her, so he saw no reason to criticize what she did with her free time. Besides, she was clearly just as skilled at pumpkin carving as she was at the Dark Arts. He stepped closer to the ones she’d completed for a better look.

“These are quite remarkable,” he commented.

“Thank you?” Bella replied uncertainly.

“Really, they are.” He picked up a pumpkin with a complex pattern of stars in its surface. “How did you learn to do this?”  
“My aunt taught me. Halloween’s always been kind of a big deal in our family. It’s the one day a year you can terrorize Muggles and get away with it. Or it was, until I became a Death Eater.”

Voldemort grinned. It was true, that the Ministry was less likely to notice attacks on Muggles, who were already determinedly terrorizing each other, on Halloween.

“Anyway, it’s a good way to practice my knife skills and I wanted some Halloween decorations. Although I suppose I’ve ruined this one.” She scooped up the dropped pumpkin, which was splattered with blood and considered it. “Then again, maybe the blood adds something to it.”  
“I think it does,” Voldemort said, moving to her side. “You have such lovely, noble blood after all.”

“I do, don’t I?” She basked in the compliment.

“Indeed. Although,” Voldemort traced his fingers along the part of her arm that had been bleeding moments ago, “I think I prefer when it stays inside you.”  
“Yeah. Me too.” She set the pumpkin down on the table with a sigh. “Anyway, I’m sorry to have bothered you over nothing, my Lord. You can return to your work now.”

“Oh, I wasn’t doing anything terribly important.” Suddenly, the Dark Lord felt a strong desire to stay in this room with Bellatrix and her pumpkins. “Actually I was about done anyway. Perhaps I could join you here?”  
She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what he was saying.

“My Lord, are you…saying you want to carve jack-o-lanterns with me?”  
“Yes.” He felt a bit awkward admitting it. “I’ve never done it before, but I find that I enjoy many things I’ve never done before with you.”

Bella’s mouth curled into a smile.

“Well, alright then.” She conjured up a chair for him and summoned a pumpkin across the room. “Grab a knife.”

“I may require some assistance,” he admitted, sitting down next to her.

“Assistance? And here I thought you were perfect at everything!” she teased.

“I am! _Almost_ everything, anyway.” He picked up a knife and stabbed it through the top of his pumpkin.

A few hours later, Voldemort had managed to carve crude faces into five pumpkins, while Bellatrix had created over a dozen more masterpieces. Their hands were caked in pumpkin guts and they were both laughing. He was glad none of the other Death Eaters were here to see this. It was silly and frivolous. And fun.


End file.
